Grateful Hero
by Alexia Dark
Summary: When Alexia Dark moves to New York to go to university, on her first day, she is saved from a train wreck by SpiderMan, during which his identity was compromised. The secret they share will have lasting effects on both of them... COMPLETE.
1. Default Chapter

It was a dark and stormy night when Alexia decided to move out. Seriously, it was. In fact, it was pouring rain as she left the clothing store where she worked. Alexia had forgotten her umbrella at the dorm, and her motorcycle provided no shelter from the downpour. She swore as she realized that her neatly braided hair had started to come undone, resulting in wisps of hair sticking to her face and getting into her eyes.

Alexia continued to mumble about her bad luck as she started her bike and began to pull away from the curb. She was startled as she felt a sudden gust of air rushing past her, and quickly found what had caused it.

She smiled, her eyes following the costumed figure swinging on spider webs only a few feet above the Manhattan traffic. Suddenly, Alexia's hair problems were much less important, as she remembered her first day in New York, and her brief encounter with Spider-Man.

She remembered how lucky she was just to be alive.

Alexia's sudden zest for life quickly faded as she returned to the dorm she shared with a few of her fellow New York University students, a bunch of boy-crazy blond girls who acted as if they hadn't yet graduated junior high school.

"Nice hair", one of the girls commented, bending over the bathroom mirror applying what was probably her fifth coat of make up, "You look like a drowned rat."

"Gee, thanks. Good luck with your customer service course. I'm sure you'll make a fine gas station attendant," Alexia retorted sarcastically.

The girl gave Alexia what she probably considered a menacing look, but ended up more like a pout.

"I don't see how you could be a model. You probably don't even know the difference between Nike and Gucci," the girl said.

Alexia shrugged.

"I model the clothes, I don't design them", Alexia replied, as she walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a soda out of the refrigerator.

"You're just an ugly idiot", the girl continued, trying to get a rise out of Alexia.

"Then I guess there isn't much difference between us," Alexia said, beginning to get annoyed.

The girl smirked at this.

"At least I have a father", she said.

Nearly shaking with anger at the mention of her father, Alexia muttered a rather nasty expletive as she went into her room and slammed the door, flopping down on her bed.

Alexia had grown up in a shabby neighbourhood in L.A. Her father had been a B-grade movie producer, who had left her mother as soon as she told him that she was pregnant, afraid that it would hurt his career. Because she had never completed high school, Alexia's mother had been forced to take many low-paying part-time jobs to support them. She encouraged Alexia to learn as much as she could, in school and otherwise. So when Alexia graduated, she applied to several universities, and was accepted into all of them, but she chose NYU. Ever since she was old enough to read, Alexia had wanted to move to New York. She loved big cities; the sounds of people coming and going, the concrete canyons of Manhattan, the constant excitement of 'the city that never sleeps'. As she had discovered in her short time there, NYC was not the giant wonderland she had dreamed of, but Alexia was not discouraged, and still felt that she belonged there.

Without even realizing it, Alexia had fallen asleep, and woke up suddenly as her alarm clock blared a familiar song from the local rock radio station. She got showered and dressed quickly, eager to get out of the dorm. She'd had enough of her dorm mates; she was moving out.

Alexia drove to a diner a few blocks away, buying a newspaper from the vender across the street. After ordering her food, she opened it to the classifieds, hoping to find an affordable apartment close to campus. Ten minutes later, she had found nothing that wouldn't force her to sell her bike just to pay the rent. She was just about to give up and ask for a transfer to another dorm, when a small ad in the corner of the last page caught her eye.

Room avail.

$450/Mth. Util. Included. Call 212-959-6759

Well, it certainly wasn't a room at the Trump Hotel, but it was all she could afford at a moment. After paying for her food, she called the number from a payphone near the university. A man with a thick foreign accent answered and gave her directions to the apartment, then started complaining about how the other tenant, also a university student, never paid his rent on time. Before he could continue, Alexia assured him that she would pay her rent on time, said goodbye, and hung up. Checking her watch, Alexia realized that she had better get to class, and decided that she would visit the apartment after class.


	2. Chapter Two

The place wasn't exactly easy to find. The entrance was simply a door that led to a staircase leading up to the apartment. The fact that the door was unlocked had clearly been taken advantage of, as evidenced by the graffiti and gang symbols that decorated the walls. As Alexia walked up the noisy staircase, she could smell some kind of foreign food cooking, not exactly a pleasant scent.

'Nothing a few sticks of incense and perfumed candles won't fix', Alexia thought.

The sound of unfamiliar instrumental music directed her attention to a partially opened door, and she knocked. The door opened to reveal a middle-aged, dark haired man sitting at a table and a sickly thin girl about her age cooking something on a stove.

"Hi, I'm Alexia," she began, "I called earlier about- ,"

"You're that college girl, right?," The man interrupted, " The rules are simple. You pay your rent on time, and the bathroom is first come, first serve. You wake up late, you wait your turn. And don't leave your stuff in there."

Alexia didn't say anything for a moment, offended by the man's rudeness.

""Well, you moving in or not?," the man said impatiently.

Alexia simply nodded, afraid she might say something rude.

"Good. Your room is beside ours. Rent is due on the seventeenth."

He went over to a drawer, took something out and handed it to her.

"Here's your key. You can call me Mr. Ditkovitch, and my daughter's name is Ursula."

He turned away, and Alexia opened the door to her room. It wasn't much. There was a bed, a night stand, a small dresser, and a sink. The balcony door, which led to a space barely large enough to stand on, had no curtains

She was about to open the windows to let in some fresh air, when Mr. Ditkovitch's loud voice caught her attention.

"Where's my rent money, Parker?," he bellowed.

"I don't have it right now. I'm getting paid tomorrow-,"

That voice. Alexia had heard it before. The person had been speaking in a different tone the last time she had heard them, but she was positive that she'd heard them before.

"Always the same," Mr. Ditkovitch snarled, "A couple hundred here, a couple hundred there, but never enough, and never on time."

Alexia heard the sound of a door being slammed, and she walked quietly to her doorway.

The man who had just had the door slammed in his face stayed where he was, looking down and slouching a bit.

Alexia shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and the floor gave a loud groan in response. The man looked toward the doorway where she was standing. Alexia nearly fell over from shock when she saw his face.

The man was about her age, almost six feet tall, with sandy brown hair combed mostly to one side. His eyes were a strikingly deep blue, the color of the ocean. His face was round, as round as a baby's, his skin a pale creamy color similar to Alexia's.

She grabbed onto the edge of the doorway to keep her upright. Memories of her first day in New York flooded her mind. She had taken the subway to the university, but didn't get the chance to reach her destination, as Doc Ock had smashed through the window of the conductor's car, destroying the brakes in an attempt to distract Spider-Man, with whom he'd been fighting.

While everyone inside thought that they were doomed, Spider-Man had climbed to the front of the train, trying to stop it. Just when it seemed that it was hopeless, that the train would fall off of the tracks and crash into the street below, Spider-Man had fired webs in every direction, attaching them to every surface around. The train slowed down as the webs pulled taut, while Spider-man struggled to maintain his hold on them. The train finally stopped a few feet off of the edge of the tracks.

Then, he had collapsed from the strain, and was carried aboard by the passengers. Sometime, Alexia couldn't be sure when, Spider-Man had taken off his mask, and his face was completely exposed as they lowered him to the floor.

He had woken up a few moments later, and instantly touched his cheek, realizing that everyone was staring straight into his unmasked face. He sat up, clearly afraid.

But then two young boys step forward.

"We found something", the older one said, and held out Spider-Man's mask to him. Spider-Man hesitated a moment.

"We won't tell nobody", the boy promised. Everyone nodded their agreement.

Alexia had made a promise that day, and she had kept it, never telling anyone what had happened that day.

And now Spider-Man was standing right in front of her. The thought was nearly overwhelming.

"Have we met before?", he asked, obviously recognizing her, but didn't know where from. Alexia glanced back and forth between him and Mr. Ditkovitch's door.

"I- we-," Alexia stuttered. She took a deep breath to calm herself down.

"We… met on the subway about a month ago. In the first passenger car. You lost something, and two little boys returned it to you." She was trying to be as subtle as she could, just in case Mr. Ditkovitch was listening.

It seemed to take a moment for him to understand what she was saying, and when he did, his facial expression was shocked and afraid, the same one he'd had that day on the train.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.

"I didn't tell anyone, and I never will, " Alexia said, trying to reassure him.

He nodded slightly, unsure of what to say.

Suddenly, Mr. Ditkovitch's door opened, and Ursula stepped out, nearly bumping into him.

"Oh. Hi, Peter," she said with a nervous smile. The look on her face made it obvious that she had a crush on him.

"Hi, Ursula," Peter responded, moving out of her way.

As she started descending the stairs, Ursula looked back at him.

"Aren't you supposed to be in class right now?", she asked.

"Yeah, I'm really late. I forgot my books," said Peter.

Ursula nodded and continued down the stairs.

Reminded of the reason he was there, Peter walked to his door and unlocked it. He still looked a bit shaken up. Alexia wished there was something she could say to reassure him, but she couldn't think of anything.

Peter emerged from his room a few moments later wearing a back pack. He locked his door, but hesitated to go.

"I don't know what to say," he said truthfully, "This is just so…" He trailed off, unable to find the right word.

"Yeah, I know what you mean", said Alexia.

Peter nodded.

""You live here, right?", he asked.

"Yeah."

"Then I guess I'll see you later. I really need to be going."

"Later, then", Alexia said nervously.

Peter nodded again, then turned and disappeared down the starirs.


	3. Chapter Three

Alexia didn't see him later, or anytime that night. She'd taken a cab back to the dorm to pick up her things and let the headmaster know that she was moving. It hadn't taken long; her belongings consisted mainly of the discounted clothes she bought from the store where she worked, and books.

When Peter didn't come back by midnight, Alexia found herself getting worried. She was having trouble sleeping, kept awake by the sound of Mr. Ditkovitch snoring through the paper-thin walls.

Finally, around two a.m., Alexia heard a noise coming from outside. She was about to get out of bed when she realized what, or more specifically, who, had caused the noise. Alexia was relieved, knowing that it was only Peter climbing through his window, and she finally fell asleep.

Half-way across town, Harry Osborn turned in his sleep for the hundredth time in the last ten minutes. Images… sounds…Spider-Man's mask. Harry, in his sleep, tried to make sense of them, but it wasn't working.

The sound of someone laughing. It sent a chill down his spine. It was cold, yet eerily comforting.. Then the sound of breaking glass… the object that had shattered it landed with a thud on the floor of the next room.

The next room? That wasn't right. He was in his father's… no, his office. And then everything seemed to be playing backwards in Harry's mind.

A scream, his own voice. The breaking glass. The evil laughter. Someone was talking to him.

"Avenge me. AVENGE ME!", the voice cried.

A strange feeling… numbness… the object in his hand fell to the floor… a dagger. Why did he have a dagger?

"Harry."

It was a familiar voice. Peter Parker. But something was wrong, he didn't look right. Colors… red and blue… blurring.

Then, Harry was standing over someone… Spider-Man.

"Who are you?", Harry asked the unconscious form. The person moved. Harry pulled off the mask.

"No… Peter."

"NO!", Harry screamed, suddenly awake. He was in his bedroom. Harry groaned as he realized that he had a splitting headache. A tray with scotch and shot glasses stood on the night table beside him, and he sat up to pour himself another glass.

Harry had been drinking heavily for the past few weeks, attempting to drown the memory of the night when he found out that his best friend was Spider-Man. As if that weren't enough, that same night, he had learned that his father had been the Green Goblin.

"My father", Harry whispered.

Spider-Man killed him.

With an anguished cry, Harry, stood up and threw his shot glass at the wall. The sound of it breaking made him wince, once again reminding him of that night. He sat back down, sobbing.

"HAHAHAHA".

The voice was back. His father's voice.

"Leave me alone!", Harry yelled at the empty room. He fell back onto his bed taking the scotch container with him. He gulped it the liquid, ignoring the burning sensation in his throat as he did so.

After finishing the bottle, Harry once again fell into a troubled sleep.

Despite her lack of rest, Alexia rose early the next morning, with plenty of time to waste before she had to go to class. She had forgotten to pick up groceries the day before, and decided to go out for breakfast again.

After showering quickly and gathering her school books, she put her backpack on and locked her door.

As she walked toward the stairs, her gaze fell upon Peter's door, and she wondered whether he was gone, or still asleep. She hoped it was the latter; he had looked tired the day before, and obviously needed as much sleep as he could get.

Alexia rode her motorcycle to a diner close to campus. She had eaten there many times before, and was greeted warmly by the waitress, who was the mother of one of her classmates.

As she headed toward a booth near the window, she spotted a copy of the Daily Bugle, and grabbed it. On the front page was a picture of Spider-Man swinging through Times Square. Ignoring the rather unflattering headline, Alexia scanned the article.

According to the reporter, Spider-Man had helped a bunch of thieves rob a bank and then left them for the police, which of course meant that he had stopped the thieves and was then blamed for the crime.

She was about to go dump the newspaper in the trash, when she saw the by-line at the bottom of the page. After the author's name and email, it said 'Photos provided by Peter Parker.'

Alexia resisted the urge to laugh out loud as she realized that Peter had been taking pictures of himself.

"I met him once, you know."

Alexia lowered the paper to look at the speaker, an over-weight African American woman wearing a flowered dress.

"Really?", Alexia asked, curious.

"Yeah, a couple of years ago. In fact, I was probably the first person to see him." Seeing the confusion on Alexia's face, she continued, "Before he became famous, he showed up at an amateur wrestling competition where I was working. When I saw him, I couldn't believe he wasn't to compete. He looked sort of scrawny, wearing blue tights, a red sweatshirt with a spider stencilled on it, and a red ski mask."

She shook her head.

"Boy, was I wrong. He won, and a few days later, showed up on the front page of the Bugle."

"Do you believe all of the things they say about him?", Alexia asked.

"No. I know a good person when I see one, and he's definitely one of them."  
Alexia was contemplating telling the woman about her encounter with Spider-Man, when the waitress came to take her order. The woman got up and started to walk towards the door, which was right beside Alexia, but paused before opening it.

"Do you believe all the bad things they say about him", she asked.

"Absolutely not. Spider-Man could never be a bad person. Not a chance in the world."


	4. Chapter Four

"As you all know, the fashion industry and the photography industry are closely linked," Mr Phillips began loudly, trying to gain the attention of the yawning students.

Despite what her old room mate had said, Alexia did know a thing or two about clothing designers. Although she didn't want to design clothes for a living, she'd become talented at it. Since she was a model, Alexia thought that it would make sense to learn everything she could about the fashion industry.

Today, instead of the regular classroom, she'd been directed to a large auditorium, where another class as well as her own was working.

"As a result," the teacher continued, "clothing designers and photographers need to learn how to work together-,"

He was interrupted by the sound of the auditorium door slamming shut, the noise echoing loudly, and everyone looked in that direction.

Peter Parker looked around, visibly embarrassed.

"Sorry. My bike broke down and-,"

Save it, Parker. Just take a seat," Mr. Phillips said tiredly.

Peter nodded and quickly walked to where everyone was seated. Alexia waved at him, and he looked up, surprised to see her there. Seeing on other seat available, he took the one next to her.

"Hi," Alexia said, glad to see him, but still nervous about their last meeting.

"Hi", Peter responded, feeling even more awkward than she did.

"So for the next month, you will be working together-,"

Both Alexia and Peter tuned out as Mr. Phillips described the details of the project, trying to think of something to ease the awkwardness of the situation, but neither of them came up with anything.

Eventually, Alexia opened her sketchbook and started to draw a design for an evening gown, glancing over at Peter every few minutes.

'How can someone so special look so normal?', she thought.

He appeared to be exactly what he was at the moment; a regular, if perhaps a bit geeky, photography student, and Alexia found herself wondering where his costume was. Was he wearing it under his clothes, or was it in his backpack?

Her casual glances at him didn't reveal the answer, and she mentally scolded her elf for thinking of something so silly when she should be focusing on her schoolwork.

Finally, Mr. Phillips looked at his watch and announced that the class was over. Alexia packed up her things and turned to leave. Peter didn't move from his seat. He looked deep in thought, looking straight ahead.

"Hey, it's lunch time," Alexia reminded him.

He looked up and realised that everyone was leaving.

"Are you ok?, " Alexia asked. He seemed worried about something. Truthfully, she wasn't sure if she wanted to know what it was.

"Yeah," Peter replied, with a weak smile even he knew wasn't convincing. Despite his attempt to stop them, tears were starting to well up in the corners of his eyes.

A wave of sadness washed over Alexia. It wasn't fair. Peter didn't deserve the pain that was clearly written upon his face. She wanted to help him, but how could she possibly understand everything he had gone through?

Knowing that there was no way to help him unless he wanted it, Alexia said, "Listen, you obviously have a lot on your mind. If you ever need someone to talk to, about anything, I'm here".

Peter seemed to consider what she'd said, and for a moment, Alexia thought he was going to say something, but he simply nodded. Alexia wanted to stay with him, to comfort him somehow, but it was obvious that he wanted to be left alone with his thoughts, so she descended the stairs and left the auditorium.

When Alexia had revealed that she knew who he was, Peter had been half-convinced that he would return to the apartment to find TV news crews outside, and Jonah Jameson parading around his room, complaining about the mess.

Peter wasn't in the best mood that week; his rent was due, his bike had broken down, and he'd missed his date with Mary Jane for the fifth time in two weeks. MJ was completely understanding, but Peter was still angry at himself for not finding the time to be with her.

Yet he knew the anger he felt at himself would be nothing compared to the guilt he would feel if an innocent person died because he was too busy.

As if he didn't feel enough about the secrets he'd kept from Harry. While Peter knew he wasn't responsible for Norman's death, he couldn't bare to think about what Harry must have been going through now that he knew the truth.

Well actually, he only knew half of the truth; he knew that Peter was Spider-man, but he didn't know how or why his father had died, or what role Peter had played in his father's death. When Harry had seen Spider-Man bring his father's body back to his house, he had assumed that Spider-Man had killed him, and Peter couldn't have told him otherwise without denying Norman his last wish; that Harry would never find out that his father had been the Green Goblin.

All of this had been racing through Peter's mind as he sat beside Alexia in class. He hadn't expected her to be there, and had been even more surprised when she offered to listen to whatever was troubling him. The offer had been tempting, but he didn't feel comfortable spilling his guts to someone he barely knew.

Yet he'd been touched be her concern, and didn't want her to think that he didn't appreciate it.

After she'd left, Peter walked to the pay phones in the lobby and dialled MJ's number. He'd expected her to be home, but received only her answering machine.

"Hey, MJ, it's Peter. Remember that incident with the train last month? Well, a girl who was there moved into the room next to mine, and she remembers me. I need to talk to you. I should be home for most of the afternoon. If you get this message before six, please come over."

He hung up the phone, wondering what he should do about Alexia. He didn't think she'd say anything, but he couldn't be sure. MJ had asked him if he wanted to move in with her, but he'd declined, knowing that he'd just be a financial burden to her. Now he might need to take her up on her offer.

'Maybe I should just trust this girl', Peter thought, ' I haven't trusted anyone in so long. Even MJ doesn't know everything about me. I'm still afraid that somehow it would put her in danger. But what about someone with no connection to me, someone that I could just talk to without worrying about some lunatic coming after them?'

Deciding that trusting someone might be worth a try, Peter resolved to talk to Alexia the next time he got the chance.


	5. Chapter Five

Riding back to the apartment after class, Alexia found that she couldn't stop thing about Peter, and the pain she'd seen in his eyes. What could possibly have made him sad enough to start crying right in front of a class full of people, if he had even noticed the other students around him?

Her stomach growled loudly, and Alexia suddenly realized that she still hadn't picked up any groceries. As luck would have it, she spotted a grocery store just few blocks away, and pulled into the parking lot.

Lacking the luxury of a stove in her new home, Alexia picked out mostly canned food and other things that didn't need to be cooked. Looking at her basket, she'd never felt the need for a home-cooked meal so much before.

Standing in line, she waited patiently as a middle-aged man took his time unloading a cart full of frozen food, thoroughly annoying the cashier.

Finally, he put the last armful of food onto the counter, and began to gather up his bags, struggling to reach his wallet with his hands occupied. When he finished, Alexia stepped forward and offered a sympathetic smile to the cashier, understanding the frustration of customers who liked to procrastinate.

As she started to unload her basket of canned food, she noticed something on the floor, and picked it up.

'Columbia University Science Expo, September 19. Single Admission', read the small piece of paper. She looked up to call out to the man to see if he had accidentally dropped it, but he had already disappeared out the door.

Not knowing what else to do with it, she stuffed it into her pocket and paid for her food.

When she left the store, she took a quick look around to see if the man was still nearby, but didn't see him. Deciding that there was no point in throwing the ticket away, she started her motorcycle and headed back to her new home.

Parking near the curb outside of apartment, Alexia took the ticket out of her pocket and studied it. The science expo was tomorrow, and she didn't have any other plans.

'I might as well go. It's not like I have anything better to do', Alexia thought, put it into her wallet, and reached for the door knob.

"I lied", said a voice behind her.

Alexia spun around, relieved to see that it was only Peter.

"What?", she asked, not understanding the remark.

"You asked me earlier if I was okay, and I said that I was fine", he explained. "I lied."

"So, if you're not okay, then why did you say that you were?", Alexia asked.

"I… didn't want to worry you. I don't like the idea of people worrying about me."

"Why? I mean, with all of the things you must be going through, the danger you must be in every day, how could someone not worry? Especially when you start crying in the middle of class", she pointed out.

Peter was silent for a moment, contemplating what she'd said. He knew she was right. Looking at her, Peter couldn't help but notice how attractive she was. Though no one in the world could compare to MJ in his mind, he knew that she was beautiful. With her long, silky black hair, creamy complexion and eyes a shade of blue even deeper than his, Alexia looked as though she had walked straight out of a fashion magazine.

"You're right", Peter said simply. "I've been thinking about what you said."

He looked down, trying to figure out how to express what he was thinking.

"I have a very hard time opening up to people. I always have, even before…"

He trailed off, uncomfortable with mentioning the accident. Alexia nodded.

"I understand. But I want you to know, anything you tell me, I'll never tell anyone else."

"I know", Peter replied.

Letting out a sigh, he continued, "Do you really want to know why I was crying in class today?"

"Yes", answered Alexia.

"I'm sure you heard about that... incident I had with Norman Osborn."

Alexia nodded.

"He was the Green Goblin. But he was also the father of a friend of mine. I don't know how he got the way he was, or why he did the things he did. The only thing I knew at the time was that he was a threat to everyone. I had to stop him somehow. He found out who I was, and started going after everyone I loved. My aunt ended up in the hospital. She was okay, but it didn't stop there. Next, he went after my girlfriend. He took her to the top of the Brooklyn Bridge."

He paused, finding that his throat was suddenly dry.

'You need to do this', Peter told himself. 'You can't avoid talking about it forever.'

"He held her over the side, with a tram car wire in his other hand, and told me to make a choice. To either save the kids, or to save her. He dropped them both. I tried to save both her and the tram car at the same time, and he tried to take advantage of that. Luckily, I was able to get both of them to safety, but before I could even turn to face him, the Goblin attacked me, dragging me to an abandoned warehouse."

Peter paused again, tears welling up in his eyes for the second time that day.

"We fought there. He was winning, and just when he thought he had me, he stopped to threaten my girlfriend. I was able to turn the situation around, but then he took his mask off and showed me who he really was. I stopped fighting him, and he seemed to be himself again, asking me to help him. But he tricked me, controlling the glider and attacking me with it. I… I knew it was coming, and I dodged it. It hit him instead."

Alexia didn't know what to say. He had explained why Norman had died, but she got the feeling that Peter still blamed himself.

As if on cue, Peter said, "I know it wasn't my fault, but I still feel as though there was something I could have done, some way I could have dealt with it differently."

Before he could continue, Peter saw MJ hurrying down the street towards them.

"Hey, Pete", she said, "What did you need to talk to me about? You didn't say much in your message."

"Um, well, we don't have to talk about it here", Peter replied.

Alexia saw the hint meant for MJ, and decided that she should be leaving.

"I'd better be going," she said, "I'll see you later."

"You don't have to go, I just… ," Peter said, without even thinking about it. He found that he didn't want Alexia to leave; now that he had talked to her, he felt the need to tell her more.

MJ seemed to notice his hesitation, and wondered what had happened before she'd gotten there. Then she thought back to the phone message, and wondered if this was the girl Peter had been talking about.

"Hi, I'm MJ, Peter's girlfriend. Are you Peter's neighbour?", she asked, offering her hand to Alexia.

"Yeah. I'm Alexia", she answered, shaking MJ's hand. "Well, I don't want to intrude on whatever you need to talk about."

"That's okay, we don't really have anything left to talk about", said Peter.

MJ raised an eyebrow at this.

"Then why the urgent message?", she asked.

Peter suddenly felt uncomfortable, unsure of what to say.

"We don't need to talk about it now", Peter insisted.

Alexia wasn't sure what was going on, but she didn't think that she wanted to be a part of it.

"I have stuff to do anyway", she said, gesturing to her grocery bags. "Besides, I wouldn't want to be a third wheel. We can always talk later."

Peter nodded. He still had much more to tell her, but it could wait.

"It was nice meeting you", Alexia said, hating herself for the cliché.

"You too", MJ replied.

Alexia nodded and opened the door to the apartment, glad to be out of what seemed to be a tense situation.

'I wonder what Peter needed to talk to her about', she thought as she unlocked her door.

'Probably none of my business', she decided, and began to put away her groceries.


	6. Chapter Six

1"What was that all about?", MJ asked.

"When I called you earlier, I wasn't sure what I was going to do, " Peter replied, "I thought that I might need to move, now that Alexia's here. I don't think I will now. She said that she won't tell anyone who I am, and I believe her."

"Well, if you trust her…", MJ said with a shrug.

Did he trust Alexia? How could he trust anyone after knowing them for so short a time? Peter had to admit that her concern for him had drawn him to her, and it had been an enormous relief telling her about his past. Peter realized that he did trust Alexia, at least partially. Only time would tell if he had made the right decision.

"I think I do", Peter said. Then he smiled.

"I have some free time right now. Do you want to go to a movie?", he asked.

"I'd love to", MJ replied.

For whatever reason, he seemed to be more relaxed than usual, and MJ was happy to see it. He was always so tense, his mind occupied with past mistakes, with things that he couldn't control or change.

Peter took her hand, and the two of them headed towards the nearest movie theatre, both of them silently praying that nothing would interrupt even this small amount of time that they had together.

Deep into his alcohol-induced sleep, Harry woke up suddenly as the phone rang. Reaching over to his night stand with his eyes still closed, he picked up the receiver and put it to his ear.

"Hello?", he mumbled.

"Mr. Osborn, the board members are starting to get worried. You haven't attended any of the meetings in the past month. Are you coming back soon?"

It was Sarah, his secretary.

"I'm not sure. I haven't been feeling well lately", Harry replied.

"Well, the board members need a specific reason for your absence."

"Tell them I've had a ... family crisis."

The silence on the other end revealed Sarah's confusion.

"I don't know when I'll be back. Probably not for a while", Harry said. 'Or maybe not at all', he thought to himself.

"The next meeting is on Tuesday if-,"

Sarah broke off, and for a second, Harry thought she'd hung up.

"Sorry about that. There's someone on the other line. I have to go. Are you sure won't be in this week?", she asked.

"I'll think about it", Harry lied, and hung up.

"Sorry, sir. Harry was on the other line," said Sarah.

"What did he say?, the person on the other end inquired.

"He said he didn't know when he'd be back at work."

"Did he say why?"

"Yes. He said it had to do with a 'family crisis'", Sarah replied.

"Keep me informed."

Setting the phone back onto its stand, Norman Osborn smirked a bit at this latest news.

'Maybe Harry's finally developed a sense of humour', he thought.

It had been a little over two years since his last confrontation with Spider-Man. Norman still remembered that night in vivid detail. When he had been pinned to the wall by his own glider, he had been fortunate; it had narrowly missed his vital organs. In his near-death state, Spider-Man couldn't tell that he was still breathing.

His heart had momentarily stopped when he was at the coroner's office, just long enough to make them think that he was gone for good. Then he had been transported to the funeral home, and it had been a simple matter to replace the body that was supposed to be in his coffin with that of the funeral attendant.

Norman had then made his way to Paris, France, where he fully recovered form his injuries, and began to think about how he could exact his revenge upon the one who had put him in his current position.

Norman had made one mistake that had nearly cost him his life; arrogance. He would never make that mistake again.

The next time he faced Spider-Man, he would not lose.


	7. Chapter 7

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the second annual Columbia University Science Expo. If you were here last year, you'll notice that there a far greater number of exhibits this year. Quest Aerospace has generously donated several million dollars to fund the various projects that you will be learning about today, as well as the research facility we're in right now", announced a well-dressed woman standing on a small podium.

Having no interest in the speaker's speech, Alexia looked at the people around her.

Many of the attendants were what she had expected; middle-aged men wearing Star Trek tee-shirts, high-school students on a field trip, and professors from various universities. Alexia was probably the only university student in the whole building.

The woman started introducing the scientists who worked in the labs, each one taking a turn explaining their area expertise. Like many of the high-school students were doing, Alexia started to wander away towards the exhibits themselves.

Pretty soon, she realized that none of the exhibits interested her, and she debated whether she should just leave. It wasn't as if she had wasted any money by coming here.

As Alexia started toward the door, she saw something out of the corner of her eye that made her stop. A man was standing near a door marked 'Authorized Personnel Only', looking around nervously. Alexia watched as the man pulled out a key card and inserted it into the slot beside the door, and then pulled out two small metal instruments. It took a moment for Alexia to register what she was seeing; the man was holding a set of lock picks, and was clearly about to use them to break into the research facility.

Alexia moved a bit closer to him, hidden from his view by a glass case containing genetically engineered reptiles, and continued to watch as the man picked the lock on the door. She waited as the man unlocked it and started to go inside, looking around for a security guard.

She couldn't see any, and hesitated a moment before deciding what to do. Using a trick she'd seen in movies before, she opened her purse as the man disappeared inside the labs, pulling out a round case of lip gloss. She crouched down and rolled the lip gloss toward the door. As the door closed, the lip gloss became wedged between it and the doorway, keeping it open. Alexia crept to the door and peeked inside to make sure the man wouldn't see her go in, and stepped inside.

She was standing in a narrow, brightly-lit corridor. The glare off of the white walls from the lights assaulted her eyes. Alexia walked to the end of the corridor and turned left, looking for any open doors that might lead to a security guard. She walked down a few more hallways, stopping as she realized that all of them were the same. She started to turn back, but couldn't remember which turns she had taken. She was lost.

Then she heard a noise coming from a nearby room, like glass hitting metal.

'Please be a security guard', Alexia thought. She rounded the corner and spotted a room with its door slightly ajar.

"Hello?", Alexia asked as she nudged the door open, hoping to see someone there. In the middle of the room was a long steel table like those used in morgues, on which sat an array of tubes and scientific instruments. There was a desk in one corner of the room with a computer and a stack of CD-ROMs. The desk chair was turned away from the desk, as though someone had left in a hurry.

Alexia started to walk toward the desk, when suddenly, someone tackled her from behind. They both hit the ground. Alexia grabbed the man's head and bashed it against the steel table, trying to stand up. The man grabbed her legs and sent her tumbling back down, dragging her back toward him. She kicked out with both legs, hitting him in the chest. It knocked the breath out of him, forcing him to release her. But before she could get up, the man reached up, grabbing onto the side of the table, searching for something to hit her with.

In the next few moments, Alexia couldn't think past the pain to defend herself as the man jabbed her with something. It felt as though she'd been stabbed with a knife, but she didn't see any blood. The man looked down at her, deciding whether to finish her off, or leave while there was still a chance to escape undetected. Fortunately for Alexia, he chose the latter option, disappearing out the door.

It took a minute to ride out the pain enough to find the source of her sudden immobilization: a large syringe had been plunged into her arm. She winced as she pulled it out, looking though hazy vision at the label: Latrodectus Mactans.

'Gee, that's a lot of help', Alexia thought, dragging herself to her feet. Using the table for support, she took a few steps toward the door. At least she could still walk. She tossed the syringe into a biohazard container as she left.

Alexia barely remembered finding her way out of the research facility, feeling dizzy and disoriented. A wave of nausea overcame her. She tried her best to look less unfocused as she asked someone where the bath room was. She half-walked, half-ran toward the woman's restroom. By the time she reached the door, she felt as though she were walking under water. Black and red dots danced across her vision as she stumbled into a stall, where she passed out on the floor.


	8. Chapter 8

"Are you okay?", asked a female voice standing over her. Alexia blinked against the bright florescent lights beaming down on her. She stood easily, all signs of the mystery pain gone. But she couldn't remember the pain. She couldn't even remember why she was in the washroom.

"Why were you on the floor?", the woman asked.

'Good question', Alexia thought. She tried to think back to how she'd gotten there. She remembered talking to Peter and MJ yesterday, and driving to the science fair, then… nothing. She couldn't remember anything past walking into the building.

The woman looked at her expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"Uh, it was just… cramps", was all that Alexia could think to say.

"Maybe you should see a doctor about that", the woman suggested.

"Maybe", Alexia mumbled.

The woman stepped back out of the stall.

"Well, you'd better get going. We close in ten minutes."  
Both feelings of panic and relief came to her when she realized that the woman was a security guard.

'I'm supposed to tell her something', Alexia thought. What was it? It was no use. She couldn't remember.

"Yeah", she replied, stepping past the woman.

Alexia left the building and drove home, wondering if she should take the woman's advice and see a doctor. She parked and went into her apartment, and realized that she hadn't eaten anything for several hours. She turned on the t.v. as she dumped a can of ravioli into a bowl and put it in the microwave.

"As you can see, both the FBI and the CIA have arrived at the scene of the theft of genetic research from a building owned by Quest Aerospace, which was used for a science expo today. Police believe that one of the attendants broke into the research lab-,"

Alexia's memory suddenly clicked into place. She remembered following the thief, the attack-

Latrodectus Mactans. The label on the syringe. What did it mean? Whatever it was, it had been enough to knock her out. Who knew what it could be doing to her?

Alexia grabbed her coat and her keys, practically flying down the stairs to her bike. She needed to get to the emergency room. For all she knew, the liquid the thief had injected her with was killing her.

She braked to a stop when she realized that her motorcycle was almost running on empty. She headed toward the nearest gas station and pulled up to the self-serve station, taking off her helmet. She started to reach for the pump when something happened. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Danger was coming. Alexia had no idea how she knew, but she did.

"Hey, baby", said a male voice said behind her. Alexia heard the sound of footsteps. There were at least five of them. Alexia turned around slowly.

"Gimme your money", one of them demanded.

"No."

Alexia said the word with certainty, unafraid. Maybe it had something to do with her near-death experience earlier, but she felt a wave of power run through her, a feeling of immortality. These men couldn't touch her.

The moon light glinted against a knife one of them had pulled out.

"You're gonna give me your money", the man said.

"I don't think so", Alexia replied.

Two of the men tried to grab her arms, but she was already out of reach. She had sensed their intentions somehow, and had back flipped onto a parked van. She jumped back down onto the ground.

"Come and get it", she challenged.

One of the men came running at her. He seemed like he was moving in slow motion to her. As he neared her, Alexia grabbed his arm with one hand and his stomach with the other, and flipped him over her head. He went unconscious instantly upon hitting the ground.

The man with the knife tried next. Alexia grabbed his knife arm and lifted a knee up into his chin, knocking him out as well.

The remaining three came at her all at once. She ducked their fists and swept their legs out from beneath them, and waited. They ran at her again. She hit one of them in the face, breaking his nose and sending him flying into the self-serve station. She kicked one of them in the stomach, causing him to double over and stay down. She spun around and grabbed the last would-be mugger by the throat, lifting him up and pushing him up against the van.

"Don't!", he chocked out. Alexia looked into his eyes. He was terrified. How many times had he made innocent people afraid? How many people had he hurt or threatened just to get their money? Would the world be a better place without him?

'What would Peter do?'

The thought came unexpectedly.

'He deals with this kind of thing every day. What would he say if he could see me now, thinking about killing another person? He'd probably be sorry he'd saved me.'

She let go of the mugger, and he fell to the ground, gasping for breath. He looked up at her for a moment, then scrambled to his feet and ran away.

Alexia turned back to the men on the ground. How had she used so much violence? Another thought came to her. How had learned to fight? Sure, she'd witnessed gang fights back in L.A., but she'd never participated in a fight before, let alone against five people at once.

"- the theft of genetic research from a building owned by Quest Aerospace-,"

The words of the news broadcaster came back to her. What had the thief injected her with? Something that had made her strong enough to send someone flying into an object several feet away? To lift a fully-grown man by the neck and not even feel the weight? What the hell had he done to her? There was only one way she could think of to find out.

She filled up her bike's tank and drove to the central library. She sat down at one of the computers and pulled up the first search engine she thought of, and typed 'Latrodectus Mactans' into the search bar. She clicked on the first link she saw. It was a news report about genetic research on spiders, conducted at Columbia University. It talked about how it was possible to transfer DNA from spiders into other animals. It had been successful with goats several years ago. A man actually had web-producing goats on his farm. At the bottom of the page was where the match had been found.

It was another link, displaying the names of spiders. Latrodectus Mactans was one of them. She clicked on it, and the page filled with information about different species of spiders. She scrolled down to the spider she was looking for. Under the title was a picture and profile of the Black Widow spider.

There was no way she could go to the hospital now. What if they tested her blood? What would they find? The DNA of a spider intertwined with her own?

Then a thought came to her. What had happened to Peter to give him his abilities?

She needed to know what was happening to her, and Peter was the only one who might know the answer.


	9. Chapter 9

Alexia drove home in a hurry, hoping to talk to Peter as soon as possible. She couldn't decide whether to tell him everything, or just ask him some questions and figure out the rest on her own. She wouldn't have to worry about it tonight, though; he was already gone, and she doubted he would be back any time soon.

She threw the now-cold ravioli in the garbage, her appetite gone. Even though it was getting late, Alexia felt too restless to sleep, and she opened the balcony doors to look outside. Impulsively, she went to the railing and sat on it, using the door for support. The view was much clearer here, the wind billowing through her hair. She felt calm, looking out at the full moon high above the New York skyline. Without warning, the hinge on the door broke, causing Alexia to lose her balance. She fell.

The feeling of time slowing returned. Less than 10 feet below the balcony, she stopped falling. Alexia looked in wonderment at what had stopped her. Her hand was stuck to the wall. The moment after she saw this, she looked down. The door was hurtling toward the sidewalk, only a few feet above a woman pushing a baby carriage.

What happened next was too fast even for Alexia to see. Her body acted purely on instinct, her hand moving into a position she had seen many times over the last month: her ring and index finger pulled back, and her newly re-designed body reacted. Her right wrist shot out a spider web.

It attached itself to the door, and the force of the sudden stop propelled it back toward her. She yanked it up the rest of the way, catching it. Alexia stared at it, astonished at what she had done. What she was doing. She tossed the door onto the balcony, the nerves in her body releasing the web from her wrist. She looked up, wondering if she could make it back up. The feeling of danger had passed, and she took this to mean that she could climb the walls without falling. She put her left hand onto the wall. It stayed. She lifted her right hand, and pulled herself up. It felt like rock climbing, just without the hand-holds. She continued climbing until she reached the balcony, and climbed over the railing. She placed the broken door in the corner to hide the web.

'I hope that will dissolve', she thought, 'It has to dissolve. If it didn't, Manhattan would be covered in them.'

She sat down on her bed as the realization fully registered. During the course of the last few hours, she had done almost everything she had seen Peter do.

'That is, short of swinging around Broadway in tights', Alexia thought, smiling.

What would she do about this? Hide it? Was that even possible? What if she were to get attacked in public or some other situation where she'd have to use her powers? How would people react to a 21-year-old-girl throw a 200-pound man over her shoulder?

On the other hand, maybe she didn't have to hide them. Maybe she could use them for something good. Maybe…

'No, I can't think about this now. I'll figure it out tomorrow, after I've talked to Peter.'

Alexia tried to put these thoughts out of her mind as she got ready for bed. She dreamed of rooftops and knife-wielding muggers.

For the first time in over a week, Alexia actually managed to eat breakfast at home.

'Even if home is a hole-in-the-wall apartment that's falling apart', she thought, pouring herself some orange juice. This morning, Alexia had noticed some more subtle changes about herself. Her muscles were more toned, no longer the sort curves of a typical model, and although she had never needed glasses, her eye sight had improved. She'd woken up with an abundance of energy, a craving for movement, and her little box of an apartment wasn't doing much to satisfy it.

She finished her breakfast quickly and left, pausing only to make sure that Peter wasn't home.

Alexia decided to leave her bike behind and run to school, even though campus wasn't within walking distance. She sprinted down a few blocks, faces and vehicles rushing past her. People were starting to stare. She knew that she was probably running faster than the last long-distance-running gold medalist. Maybe even this was too obvious. She slowed down and stopped, wondering what to do. Class was going to start soon, and she wouldn't have enough time to go back and get to her bike to drive to school. She glanced into a nearby ally, spying a fire escape ladder, wondering if it was possible to simply jump across the rooftops.

Alexia ran into the ally and, just in case someone was watching her, jumped onto the fire escape ladder and quickly climbed onto the roof of the building. After taking a deep breathe and reminding herself that if Peter could do it, so could she, Alexia ran to the edge of the roof and jumped. She travelled clear to the opposite rooftop, and jumped again.

Alexia made it to campus within minutes, smiling as she landed in a crouch on a building across from her class. She jumped down into the ally and walked the rest of the way to the auditorium, and waited as the rest of the students arrived, taking the same seat she'd occupied the previous class.

Her smile faded slightly as she saw Peter enter the auditorium. They had a lot to talk about. Alexia needed to make an important choice today, one that would change her life forever.

"Hi", Peter said as he approached Alexia, taking the seat next to her.

"Hi", she replied.

They sat in silence as Mr. Phillips announced that the class would be working in pairs for most of the assignment, and they would consist of one designer and one photographer each.

"Want to be my partner?", Alexia asked Peter.

"Sure", he replied.

They went to the area where the materials had been set out, and peter watched as Alexia set to work, fiddling with his camera. Alexia worked quickly, anxious for class to be over so she could talk to Peter in privacy. Her hands glided along the sewing machine, never missing a beat. She finished the outfit before class was over, with time to spare. Mr. Phillips came over and asked her if she wouldn't mind modeling her outfit for the class. She accepted, taking the clothes off of the mannequin and going to the change room.

All eyes were on her when she returned, her long black hair flowing down her back. The outfit she had made consisted of a black tank top glittering with red rhinestones arranged in a floral design over the front, and a long black skirt that went half-way past her knees, with slits up her thigh on both sides. The outfit was completed by her own shoes, knee-high combat boots.

She turned around slowly to let everyone see. It was actually a bit embarrassing; her modelling work was mostly done with a camera, not on a runway. When she was done, Peter asked if he could take a picture. Alexia agreed. After he had finished, she went back to the change room to put her own clothes back on.

"You make a good model", Peter commented when she came back.

"Thanks. From one model to another, you're not too bad yourself", she replied with a wink.

Then Peter did something that he could rarely remember doing since Uncle Ben had died; he laughed. The sound was infectious, and Alexia started laughing as well. Mr. Phillips told them to stop distracting the other students, and they quieted down, secretly enjoying their little joke. Then the bell rang, and everyone started filing out to go to lunch. They were still smiling as they walked into the hallway.

"I've never thought about it that way", Peter admitted.

"I was having breakfast at a café the other day, when I picked up a copy of the Bugle and saw your name in the by-lines. I nearly burst out laughing right there in the restaurant", Alexia commented.

"I really should ask Jonah to take that out. It's great for my career and all, but…", Peter trailed off, shrugging. The unspoken words hung in the silence between them: _but someone might draw a connection_. And Peter definitely didn't want that.

"Can I ask you a question?", Alexia asked .

"Sure", Peter replied.

They were standing outside the doors to the cafeteria when they stopped walking. Alexia looked around to make sure that no one was listening.

"How did it all start?", she asked.

A flash of pain shot across his eyes as he remembered.

"Can we talk about this outside?"

"Of course", Alexia replied.

She followed him out to a small park outside, and they sat down on a bench.

"It started in my senior year in high school. I was on a field trip to Columbia University, where they were doing research on spider DNA", he began, smiling faintly at the memory. "What they'd done was take DNA from a bunch of different species, and created fifteen genetically designed spiders. I guess one of them escaped. I was taking pictures for the school paper-,"he smiled again, remembering the last time he'd seen MJ before his life had changed forever. "I guess it had been hiding on the ceiling somewhere. It dropped onto my hand and bit me. The whole thing was just a very strange accident."

So maybe the research that had caused Peter's abilities had something to do with the syringe. Perhaps the Black Widow DNA had been meant for the same purpose Peter had just described. But she still had one more question, perhaps even more important than the one Peter had just answered.

"Why… why did you decide to help people?", Alexia asked.

The same hurt, clouded look she'd seen during the first class returned.

"After the accident happened and I discovered all of the strange things I could do, I was very confused. I had no idea what to do. I used to get picked on a lot… still do, actually. Well, one day, I had a really bad… incident with my powers. It ended up embarrassing one of the jocks, and he started a fight with me. I fought him off, which embarrassed him even more, but I was the one who got in trouble for it. My Uncle Ben and Aunt May had noticed that I was acting differently, so my Uncle Ben took me for a drive, and told me that he understood what I was going through, that I was changing… the whole nine yards. But one thing that he said really stuck in my mind. He said 'With great power, comes great responsibility".

His eyes started to glitter with unshed tears.

"It was one of the last things he'd ever say to me."

He paused as he tried to figure out what to say next.

"He'd driven me to the library, where I usually spent my free time, but that wasn't where I was going that day. I'd seen an ad in a magazine about an amateur wrestling competition. They would give three thousand dollars to anyone who could stay in the ring for three minutes. I decided to compete, hoping that I could buy a car and impress MJ. I figured that even if I couldn't fight the guy, at least I could avoid him long enough to win the money. I got a little distracted by the crowd, and the guy got a good shot at me. I ended up having to fight him after all, and I won. When I went to collect my money, the manager only gave me a hundred dollars, claiming that I wasn't entitled to the three thousand because the match hadn't lasted three minutes. I got angry and left. As I was leaving, a thief stole the money from him. I could have stopped him, but I didn't. I thought that he deserved to get robbed. But when I went to the spot where Uncle Ben was supposed to pick me up, I saw a crowd gathering around someone. It was my Uncle Ben. He'd been shot by the thief because he wouldn't give up his car. The same thief I let go."

He paused, his memories of shock and pain playing like a movie behind his eyes.

"I held onto his hand as he died. I could have prevented it. I could have stopped the crime that led to his death, but I didn't. My selfishness killed him."

He looked straight ahead now, his eyes fixed in determination.

"Ever since that day, I've done my best to make sure that no one would have to go through what my Uncle Ben did. 'With great power, comes great responsibility'. I'll never forget that.

He looked over at Alexia, his blue eyes mirroring her own.

"Why do I do what I do? I guess you could say, 'because I can."

Alexia nodded. The haunted looks, the distant expressions, the way he left at night and didn't come back until dawn no matter how tired he was, it all made sense now. Peter felt that he owed it to his uncle.

Peter checked his watch.

"I have to go, or I'll be late for physics class. But can I ask you a question?

"Of course."

"Why did you want to know all of these things about me?"

Alexia looked away, thinking about the previous night.

"Just curious. I have too many questions", she answered.

"I don't mind, I just wanted to know why. Well, I'd better be going."

He started to get up and leave.

"Wait", she said.

Peter looked back at her.

"Thank you", she said.

"For what?", he asked.

"For sharing with me. It meant a lot".

'More than you'll ever know', she thought.

Peter smiled.

"No problem."

Then he left, but Alexia remained on the bench for a few more moments, thinking. Delaying making the decision that she knew, in her heart, she had already made. All of her questions had been answered. The only thing left to do was figure out where to find some black spandex, and Alexia already had that covered.


	10. Chapter 10

The fire on fourty-third street had spread quickly, nearly engulfing four stories of an apartment building before Spider-Man arrived on the scene, swinging around the corner and landing in front of the blazing structure. Firefighters had arrived a few minutes earlier, their hoses doing nothing to put out the flames. As Spider-Man prepared to charge into the building, a firefighter caught up with him.

"There're eight people in there, two on each floor! You'll never get them out in time!"

"I have to try", he responded.

Just as he was about to run into the burning building, a dark shape swung overhead, landing on top of the fire truck nearest to the building. Spider-Man looked at the person. It was definitely a woman.

She was wearing a costume made out of spandex, mostly black with red web designs, much like those Spider-Man was wearing. Her mask covered part of her face, a long, spider-like shape encasing her eyes. Her long black hair fell in a braid over her right shoulder. Perhaps her most striking feature was the design that stretched across the entire upper-half of the front of the costume: a large, creepy-looking Black Widow spider.

In her right hand, she held something that shouldn't have surprised him; a web-line, exactly like the kind he produced: funnel-shaped, glistening, and nearly invisible to the naked eye. She dropped it as she jumped onto the ground, looking him in the eye, almost as if she could somehow see beyond the mask to the eyes themselves. She put one hand on her hip, an inquisitive posture.

"Well, what are we waiting for?", she said, and rushed into the blazing inferno. Spider-Man followed, hoping that the building wouldn't collapse before the people inside could be saved.

The next few minutes were a haze of black smoke and scorching heat as the two of them ran in and out of the building, each of them bringing out another coughing resident each time.

Finally, Spider-Man heaved the last person, a teenage boy, onto his shoulder and ran out the door just as a staircase collapsed, blocking the entrance. He set the boy down against a fire truck, and turned to see the spider-like woman comforting a little girl holding a partially-burnt teddy bear. The girl's mother pushed through the crowd to her daughter, picked her up and hugged her, murmuring muffled thank-yous to the woman. The small family was guided toward an ambulance by a medic, and the woman turned back to the burnt-out building, surveying the damage. Then she suddenly turned around, running, and jumped.

She glided gracefully through the air and – surprise, surprise – stuck to a brick building on the other side of the street, climbing quickly to the roof, and disappearing over the ledge. 'Who is she?', Spider-Man thought. Someone who had the same abilities as him? He needed to know, and ran after her. She was fast, and he pursued her to the top of a corporate building, when she finally seemed to notice him, and stopped.

"Wait!", he called.

The woman crossed her arms and waited as he caught up to her.

"Who are you?", he asked when he was close enough.

"I can't really tell you that. But I'm sure your good friend Jonah will be happy to give me a bizarre yet predictable nick-name in tomorrow's paper. Probably 'Spider-Woman', the most obvious thing he'll think of. I'd prefer 'Black Widow' myself, but it's already taken."

Spider-Man smiled. He liked this woman's sense of humor, so much like his own. She started to turn toward the edge of the roof.

"Just one more question before you go", Spider-Man said.

The woman nodded.

"Why did you help me?", he asked.

The woman shrugged, then put her arms out in an eagle-spread as she stepped backward onto the ledge of the roof.

"Because I can", she replied, and hopped off the roof, doing a flip in mid-air as she released a web-line from her wrist.

Spider-Man watched with fascination as it attached itself to a nearby building, and the woman swung off into the sunset.


End file.
